"Lover At Last" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ward, J.R.)

Even though he knew Saxton was right, Blay felt a compulsive need to fight for them. тАЬListen, IтАЩve been really distracted for the last week, and IтАЩm sorry. But things have a way of regulating, and you and I will get back to normalтАФтАЭ

тАЬIтАЩm in love with you.тАЭ

Blay shut his mouth with a clap.

тАЬSo you see,тАЭ Saxton continued hoarsely, тАЬitтАЩs not that you have changed. ItтАЩs that I haveтАФand IтАЩm afraid my silly emotions have put us at quite a distance from each other.тАЭ

Blay surged to his feet and strode across the fine-napped carpet to the other male.

When he got to his destination, he was relieved to the point of tearing up that Saxton accepted his embrace. And as he held his first true lover against him, feeling that familiar difference in their heights and smelling that wonderful cologne, part of him wanted to debate this break up until they both gave in and kept trying.

But that wasnтАЩt fair.

Like Saxton, heтАЩd had the vague notion that things were going to end at some point. And like his lover, he was also surprised it was now.

That didnтАЩt change the outcome, however.

Saxton stepped back. тАЬI never meant to get emotionally involved.тАЭ

тАЬIтАЩm so sorry, IтАЩmтАжIтАЩm so sorryтАж.тАЭ Shit, that was all that was coming out of his mouth. тАЬI would give anything to be different. I wish I couldтАжbe different.тАЭ

тАЬI know.тАЭ Saxton reached up and brushed a hand down the side of his face. тАЬI forgive youтАФand you need to forgive yourself.тАЭ

Whatever, he wasnтАЩt sure he could do thatтАФespecially as, at this moment, and as fucking usual, an emotional attachment he didnтАЩt want and couldnтАЩt change was yet again robbing him of something he wanted.

Qhuinn was a fucking curse to him, the guy really was.



About fifteen miles south of the BrotherhoodтАЩs mountaintop compound, Assail woke up on his circular bed in the grand master suite of his mansion on the Hudson. Above him, in the mirrored panels mounted on the ceiling, his naked body was gleaming in the soft glow of the lights installed around the base of the mattress. The octagonal room beyond was dark, the interior shutters still down, the fallen night hidden.

As he considered all the glass in the house, he knew so many vampires would have found these accommodations unacceptable. Most would have avoided the manse altogether.

Too much risk during daylight hours.

Assail, however, had never been bound by convention, and the dangers inherent in living in a building with so much access to light were something to be managed, not bound by.

Getting up, he went over to the desk, signed into his computer, and accessed the security system that monitored not just the house, but the grounds. Alerts had sounded several times during the earlier hours of the day, notifications not of an impending attack, but of some kind of activity that had been flagged by the security systemтАЩs filtering program.

In truth, he lacked the energy to be overly concerned, an unwelcome sign that he needed to feedтАФ

Assail frowned as he reviewed the report.

Well, wasnтАЩt this instructive.

And indeed, this was why heтАЩd installed all his checks and balances.

On the images feed from the rear cameras, he watched as a figure dressed in snowfield camouflage traveled on cross-country skis through the forest, closing in on his house from the north. Whoever it was stayed hidden in and among the pines for the most part, and surveyed the property from various vantage points for approximately nineteen minutesтАжbefore traversing the westerly border of trees, crossing into the neighborтАЩs property, and going down onto the ice. Two hundred yards later the man stopped, got out the binoculars again, and stared at AssailтАЩs home. Then he circled around the peninsula that jutted out into the river, reentered the forest, and disappeared.